


safety

by gloomyqueliot



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloomyqueliot/pseuds/gloomyqueliot
Summary: A two-part hux x reader in which hux shows up at your quarters bleeding and exhausted and perhaps on the verge of an emotional breakdown.





	1. one

            It was late; too late for visitors, you noted as the panel by the door lit up and chirped a shrill greeting. You were halfway into a pair of sleep pants and debated grabbing some uniform slacks but thought better; whoever was gallant enough to visit your private quarters at this hour could deal with your state of undress.

            The console squealed once more as you tugged a plain black long-sleeve down over your head. Despite it being issued as ‘lounge wear,’ the First Order emblem still graced the upper left sleeve, over your bicep.

            _Kriff, this had better be good,_ you thought at the sound of a fist bludgeoning the outside of the reinforced door. Your hand found the console a few moments later, tapping a highlighted button and waiting in annoyed anticipation as the door _hissed_ and slid open. Revealing: nothing.

            “What the _hell?_ ” You said aloud, taking a step forward to peer into the hall. “Hux?” The General’s bright orange hair was the only thing distinguishing him from any other officer as he strode away in the opposite direction of your chambers. Hux froze at your call, his body tensing as if he hadn’t been the one trying to reach you in the first place. You didn’t say anything else; just waited. After a moment he began to turn, revealing a blood-smeared right half of his face.

            “ _Kriff,_ Hux,” you breathed, marching out into the hall and closing the near twenty-foot space between you. At this distance you could tell the blood originated mainly from one wound and had just been wiped everywhere by his own hand or sleeve. Hux’s eyes had yet to meet yours, and he stared at some point in the distance while you examined his face. “You require escorts to the medbay now? A little ambitious for a General, don’t you think?” His eyes didn’t roll like you’d expected. He didn’t click his tongue or scoff at your comment. He didn’t even make a sound, until you gripped his upper arm and tried to tug him further down the hall.

            “No.” It was a hesitant yet firm order, and his mouth opened wider as if to elaborate. “…No.” This time his voice was softer, a quiet plea that you immediately vowed to accept. Silently, still clutching his arm, you lead Hux the small distance back to your quarters, the door sliding shut behind you. He waited for your instruction on where to go; there was no sitting area, only a mid-sized bedroom and adjoining bathroom. Hux glanced over at your desk area, looking very interested in a datapad displaying a completely blank screen. You ushered him into the bathroom.

            Hux stood sheepishly in the doorway as you rifled through drawers and cabinets, picking out bits and pieces of what medical equipment you had. A small pile of gauze, bandages, cleansing solution, and a couple cloths lay out on the counter soon after. You turned to Hux then, jerking your head towards the vanity in beckoning. As he stepped forward, you hoisted yourself up and onto the counter and began running one of the cloths under cool water. When you turned back, he was standing in front of you, close enough for you to reach up and touch the cloth to his cheek. Hux avoided your gaze, staring somewhere near your shoulders as you wiped the drying blood from his face. He stayed silent, still, until one swipe of your hand near his forehead caused him to yelp. Frowning, you lowered your arm and leaned in closer; a single, glistening fragment stuck out from the gash, having been scraped along the skin by the cloth.

            “…Is that _glass?_ What the hell did you do?” While you waited for him to answer- if he was going to answer- you reached an arm below the countertop and into one of the drawers, pulling out a small pair of tweezers with a pointed edge.

            “Ren…” Hux’s voice was barely above a whisper and you nodded, deciding not to pry further. While your right hand held the tweezers, you used the left to cup his face, holding it in place. You parted your knees just enough to tug him forward, allowing you a closer view at the wound; there seemed to be only the one shard, which was removed with only the slightest _hiss_ of discomfort. Then it was back to scrubbing lightly at the streaks of red staining his pale skin.

            The next few minutes passed by in silence, until all the blood had been wiped away, leaving only a couple small cuts and the larger gash above Hux’s brow. Satisfied, you turned and reached for a clean cloth and the bottle of cleansing solution.

            “This’ll sting,” you warned lightly as you brought the cloth up to touch his forehead. He didn’t make a sound this time, but you felt hands clutching at the material at your waist, and his eyes squeezed shut in a grimace. “Sorry, sorry,” you whispered, swiping the thumb of your off-hand back and forth near his jaw. Hux’s eyes were glassy when he opened them, but no tears had spilled out and onto his cheeks. He watched intently as you reached for a couple butterfly bandages and began to peel off the backings.

            “It’s probably going to scar,” you noted; you wanted to add “Should’ve gotten a droid to stitch it,” but you didn’t. Hux only nodded, flinching a bit when you reached up to pinch the skin around the wound together and apply the bandages. When you were done, you just stared at him. His gaze was to the mirror taking up wall space behind you, observing the damage and repair. Hux looked tired. More tired than you’d seen him before, which said something. His eyes were rimmed red, accented by deep purple circles beneath. Without thinking, you reached up to brush the strands of blood-stained hair from his forehead.

            Hux flinched; only slightly, but enough to tug at your heartstrings as you realized he hadn’t been expecting an affectionate gesture. You offered him the smallest, tight-lipped smile as you combed gently through his hair, continuing the action until the first tear rolled in a thick streak down his cheek.

            “Hey…what is it? What’s wrong?” You cooed gently, the hand on his head stilling. Hux sucked in a breath in hopes of releasing it as anything other than a whimper; it didn’t work. You ignored the prospect of a response in favour of tugging the General downwards by his jacket, his face coming to rest against your shoulder. Hux tensed at first, hands bracing themselves against the counter on either side of you. But soon he sighed, shaky and tired, and his hands found their way to your sides where they clutched tightly at the material of your shirt.

            Your elbows rested atop his shoulders, arms bent in a way that caged his head against you. Hux was crying freely now, his sobs muffled by the top of your shoulder. Talking was moot, and nothing you thought to say seemed appropriate. You settled for sliding a hand back into his uncharacteristically tousled hair, the other one reaching across his shoulders in a sloppy embrace.

            Hux cried the only way you’d assume he would; in short, panicked sobs that tried in vain to be as quiet and undetectable as possible. Your shirt began to feel wet from the tears and in a quick and automatic gesture, your lips pressed down softly against the side of Hux’s head. This caused him to pull back quickly, as if remembering where he was and what he was doing and why he couldn’t be doing it.

            “I’m…I just…I _can’t_ ,” he murmured hurriedly, voice breaking slightly on the last word; his eyes flitted back and forth across the floor. You stayed still at first, in fear of somehow scaring him off. But just as you reached out to lay a hand on his arm, he turned away. Hux waited until his back was fully towards you before raising two gloved hands to his face and letting out something between a sob and a quiet growl.

            Eventually Hux leaned backwards a short distance, his lower back coming to rest against the edge of the countertop. After several moments of hesitation, you leaned forward to meet him. Your head rested gently between his shoulder blades and you snaked your arms loosely around his middle.

            “It’s okay, you’re okay,” you tried, finding it much easier to mumble reassurances into the back of his uniform. The sounds in the room alternated between muffled sobs and gentle shushing, a soundtrack that continued for several minutes before you noticed the absence of crying. You lifted your head from Hux’s back to glance at him over his shoulder. He straightened up and began wiping with gloved hands at the wetness on his face. You waited a moment before offering,

            “You can…stay here tonight. If you want,” you couldn’t tell whether or not the gesture was stupid and ridiculous and would be rejected immediately. But you couldn’t help but assume Hux wouldn’t favour being alone tonight. He paused at your words, head tilted forward as he stared down at his shoes.

            “Please,” he accepted with a voice that was hoarse, yet level. He spun around then, giving you full view of his glassy, half-lidded eyes and reddened face. His eyes met yours for a fraction of a second before returning downwards, embarrassed. “You didn’t have to…” he trailed off, leaving you to assume the rest. Slowly, you reached forward, gripping the hands that fumbled absently with the cuffs of his jacket.

            “I know.”

           

 


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay guess who got around to finishing this; spoiler alert, it's not that good. but if i started nitpicking it, i'd force myself to rewrite the whole thing and i just don't got time for tht rn. SO E N J O Y, and pls send prayers to the universe for my boy hux cause he's so done
> 
> ALSO: i imagine the relationship here as pretty tight/romantic, but not like f u l l on dating type thing?? just as comfortable around each other as they need to be for this shit to happen LMAO ok bye

For a while the room was silent. You had tidied up the sparse medical supplies and ushered a lead-footed Hux back into the bedroom. Without a word, you tugged open your chest of drawers and rifled around for a moment, before pulling out a long-sleeve lounge shirt identical to the one you wore; except this one was distinctly larger and smelled of mint and pine. Hux was already seated on the edge of the bed, unfastening the buckles on his tall, leather boots. You placed the shirt next to him on the grey blanket and crawled up and onto the bed.

            Hux continued to undress while you sank down on top of the covers, resting your crossed arms lightly over your eyes. You shifted one of your arms slightly, allowing you to peek over at the General, still perched on the edge of bed on the opposite corner. He had already been stripped of his jacket, and now fumbled with the collar of his outer-shirt. Hux sighed as he peeled the garment off of his body, neck finally being free of the restricting material. His next movements were slow and hesitant, and you weren’t left wondering why for too long; Hux tugged a thin long-sleeve over his head, revealing a pale expanse of torso swallowed up by violent shades of purple and blue.

            You couldn’t help but gasp, and Hux flinched at the noise, not realizing you’d been watching. An array of bruises dotted his entire torso, but a near straight line of fresh purple welts ran up the right side of his body, from hip to shoulder.

            “ _Maker,_ Hux,” you cursed, immediately sitting up and crawling your way across the bed towards him. Hux knew what had caught your attention, but he refused to let his own eyes fall upon the wreckage of his body; he eyed the ceiling and fumbled with the shirt his forearms were still hooked into. You were at his side now, mouth falling agape as your eyes grazed over the extent of the bruising. Delicately, as if touching a tower of playing cards, you let your fingertips meet with the skin on his ribcage. Hux stiffened, and then groaned audibly at the way his sore muscles moved in response. Your fingers danced around to his back, gliding lightly over an eerily-bony shoulder blade before coming to rest at the back of his neck. Hux sighed as you placed the full weight of your palm against his skin, swiping your thumb back and forth along the fine hairs at the base of his skull.

            Hux pulled away suddenly, leaning forward onto his elbows and squeezing his eyes shut in a grimace. You couldn’t imagine your feather-light touches were to blame, so you slid your hand forwards, gently cupping his chin and tilting it upwards.

            “Head,” he mumbled in response to your unasked question, the crease in his forehead relaxed but his eyes were still sealed shut; Hux’s eyelids were snow-white, with an array of bluish veins stretching across them. The full weight of his head rested on your outstretched hand now, and the last thing you wanted was to pull away; but you did, giving his chin a gentle squeeze before dropping your arm and pushing yourself up from the bed.

            After grabbing a couple tiny pills and a glass of water, you returned to where you’d left Hux; he was slumped over now, head nearly resting against his knees, but he kept it propped up with the heel of his palm.

            “Here,” you announced, moving to stand right in front of him, “Drink.” Hux slowly lifted his head, eyeing the pills in your open palm with relief. You waited until he’d popped each one into his mouth before moving the glass forwards to meet his pale lips. He took a few lazy gulps, and you felt the corner of your mouth twinge at the way his eyelids continuously drooped against his will. Setting the glass down on the bedside table, you reached for the clean shirt you’d brought out earlier, which had remained unnoticed next to Hux’s thigh. His eyes were closed when you tugged the garment down over his head, but he soon opened them to give you a pointed glare.

            “I’m not a _child,_ ” he muttered with little conviction, and you hummed in response. He didn’t protest, however, when you guided the arm on his bruised side gently into the sleeve. After carefully pulling the material down over his bruised ribs, you gave Hux a light nudge on his shoulder to signal you were done. He mumbled something incoherent and began the task of hauling the rest of his body onto the bed. Walking around to the other side, you grabbed your datapad from the bedside table and unlocked it as you sat, back resting against the headboard.

            Hux lay a couple feet to your right, flat on his back and using his arms to shield his closed eyes from the fluorescent room lighting. You shut it off wordlessly, a comfortable darkness engulfing the room. It was silent for all of a few moments before you heard a quiet croak from beside you;

            “…Hurts…” You glanced up from your work and towards the faint outline of Hux’s body provided by the screen’s glow; his head fell a few inches short of hitting the pillow, but he made no move to adjust.

            “What does? C’mere,” you shuffled closer to him now, reaching out to gently pry an arm from where it was slung across his face. Hux didn’t move at first, and for a minute you thought he’d fallen asleep, the pain killers finally ebbing the aches enough for him to do so. But soon he shifted, hissing in pain when the mattress pushed up against his bruised ribs. And then Hux did one of the last things you’d been expecting: he shimmied forwards, closing the small distance between you, and wrapped his outstretched arms around your middle. You froze as he nuzzled his head lightly against your thigh, the top of it bumping into your hipbone.

            “Everything...” Hux mumbled into your lap, in answer your earlier inquiry. The faintest whimper fell from his lips, barely audible, but it tugged on your heartstrings just the same. You knew the physical injuries merely scraped the surface of the agony the General endured, and it seemed almost odd that this was only the first time he’d been brought down to weeping into someone’s lap in the late hours of the night.

            Still tapping away at the datapad with your left hand, you allowed your right to slide into Hux’s dishevelled hair, combing through it with parted fingers. You felt his tears begin to seep through the fabric of your pants; that was the only indication of his crying, apparently too exhausted to do much else. Your hand traveled down to Hux’s back, earning a contented sigh as you rubbed back and forth across his shoulders. His grip on your waist had loosened now, one arm merely resting against the tops of your thighs.

            Suddenly the silence of the room was filled with a _hiss_ of pain, and you assumed you’d brushed too forcefully over a bruise. Your touch became lighter and you began to wonder of his previous injuries;

            “Where did you go before, when you were hurt?” You only asked because of his distinct aversion to the medbay earlier, however ridiculous that had seemed. For a minute there was silence, and then Hux was lifting his head slightly in order to deliver a coherent response,

            “Nowhere.” The hand on his back stilled but Hux took no notice, returning his head to its previous position. Your chest seized at the image of Hux, alone in his quarters, wiping blood from his face and bandaging himself up.

            “Come here, then. Please,” it seemed wrong for you to be the one begging for his presence in these situations and even presuming so casually that there’d be a next time, but you meant it through and through. If he showed up one hundred times at your door, bleeding and broken, then one hundred times you’d clean his wounds and fix him up. You weren’t expecting a response, but nevertheless a hoarse “ _Ok,_ ” met your ears after a few beats of silence.

            Your hand continued its motion up and down Hux’s back and gradually he relaxed, the pain meds easing the throbbing he felt in his head and muscles. Though with the lack of pain came increased mobility and an ability to form cohesive thoughts, and Hux took advantage of both, craning his neck every so often to get a glimpse at the datapad. After the third time, you used your free hand to force his head back into your lap, to which he grumbled in protest.

            “ _Sleep,_ ” you urged, the command stern but the fingers dancing through his hair ever so gentle. Whatever opposition he’d been about to provide died in his throat and left his lips in a breathy sigh as you smoothed your palm firmly from the base of his neck down to the small of his back, and up again.

            It was only after a few more minutes of this that you caught the faintest sounds of snoring, barely audible in even the otherwise silent room; and for a moment, you allowed yourself a small smile.

            “ _Goodnight, Armitage._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u get one measly "armitage" bc i can never find it in me to put it in the dialogue. not that it's even necessary here bc there's only two people so u knOW who they're talking to. ANYWAY hope u enjoyed, hope ur heart melted just a lil bit, and i'm sorry there's no /actual/ snugglin but my boi is a bruised peach and i won't hurt him like this. THANK U FOR UR KUDOS AND ALL THAT, I RLLY LIKE THAT SHIT x

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally just gonna be a one part thing, but a few people asked me to continue so i'll do one more chapter!! it'll be fluffy as hell bc hux just r e a l l y needs a hug. thank u 4 ur kudos, it really does make me smile to see ppl liking the things i post!!


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